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Book. 



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COPXRIGHT DEPOSm 




'Nig-ht's solemn hush had fallen o'er the land. 



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BY 



W. H. SHERIDAN McGLUMPHY 

Author of Village Verse 



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Illustrated by 
VICTOR STEVENS 



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Copyright I9l3 

by 

W. H. S. McGlumphy 



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A357583 




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^^ IIGHT'S solemn hush had fallen 
^^ o'er the land, 
And hid within its somber folds that 

city grand. 
Babylon, whose walls so vast and high, 
Seemed met in mid-air by the lowering 

sky; 
Whose palaces and many works of art 
Were known and famed in every city, 

town and mart; 



Whose king, though young and lately to 
the throne, 

For indolence and wickedness was wide- 
ly known; 

And who, depending on his towers and 
wall. 

Laughed to scorn the thought that Bab- 
ylon could fall. 



P 



ELSHAZZAR, the greatest mon- 
arch of the East, 
This night prepared before his lords a 

feast, 
And sat him down 'mid revelry and din, 
To pass the night in wickedness and sin. 



Full well he knew that yonder on the 
plain, 

The Persian king and army long had 
lain, 

Seeking an entrance to that city strong 
and great, 

And vowing they would enter soon or 
late. 



p 



UT tonight, within the palace by 
the side 
Of the Euphrates, dark and deep and 

wide, 
The lords and nobles thronged about 
the king. 



Who called his servants and ordered 

them to bring 
The gold and silver vessels, fill them to 

the brim, 
And pass them to the guests that feasted 

there with him. 



M 



HAT cared Belshazzar though 
the king 

Against him all his hosts of war should 

bring? 
Why fear an army, be it great or small — 
How could they hope to scale that 

mighty wall? 



Secure, self-satisfied, and full of vain 

conceit, 
Belshazzar thought the Persian army 

must retreat. 
Babylon, in sin and wickedness that 

night, 
Was ruled by Folly, Shame and Might; 
There in that palace flowed the wine 

and song. 
And sin and Satan held that mighty 

throng. 



^ 



UT stay, a hand appears upon the 
wall! 

A shiver and a cry run through the ban- 
quet hall! 



For there in letters burning bright as 

gold, 
The hand is writing with stroke so firm 

and bold. 
Only an instant— the hand has vanished 

quite! 
But on the wall is yet the message burn- 
ing bright! 
"What meaneth this?" at length spoke 

up the king; 
"Astrologers, soothsayers, unfold to me 

this thing; 
Who interprets this strange writing that 

we see, 
I will promote to the third ruler under 



mer 



c 



HEN all the wise men gathered 
'round, 

Yet none among them could be found 

Who could interpret or this message 

read — 
All were speechless in Belshazzar's hour 

of need. 
Then came the queen and told her lord 

the king, 
There dwelt within the city one, whom 

if they would bring 
And place before them in the banquet 

hall, 

Would show them the meaning of it 
all. 



Jf 



ROM prison Daniel came and sad, 
yet fearless read, 
The words that filled the multitude with 
fear and dread: 

^^O king, Belshazzar, for thy many wick- 
ed ways, 

The Lord, this night hath numbered 
thee thy days; 

Weighed in the balance, wanting thou 
art found — 

Thy kingdom be divided to the Medes 
and Persians 'round.'' 

And while he spoke, a tumult rose with- 
out; 

A clash of arms and many a deafening 
shout; 



The palace gates where brave men 

fought and fell, 
Gave way before the Persians that sang 

the city's knell; 

The king, Belshazzar, seeing all was 
lost, 

Drew forth his sword and sold his life 

at fearful cost. 
But he was slain within that banquet 

hail- 
Thus did that mighty king and kingdom 

fall. 



€ 



HE Medes and Persians, by strat- 
agem so bold 
Had gained an entrance to the city, we 
are told. 



By turning from its course the Euphra- 
tes wide and deep, 

While Belshazzar feasted and the city 
was asleep. 




LITTLE LAYS OF CHILDHOOD DAYS. 

Go A'Dreaming. 

Come little fellow, you're tired of play, 

Put up your books and toys; 
You've romped and whistled and talked all 
day 

And filled the house with noise. 
The moon is high in the eastern sky. 

Its rays come dancing, streaming — 
Come little fellow put up your toys, 

'Tis time to go a'dreaming. 

Come little fellow, you're tired I know 

And soon will be fast asleep; 
Come and be off to Slumberland 

While the dark'ning shadows creep; 
Come and away in dreams to play, 

Where harm is only seeming. 
And where you feel that joy is real — 

'Tis time to go a'dreaming. 



Papa, Be a Good Boy. 

My daily occupation leads me early from 

my home, 
But there are floating ringlets I see 

where'er I roam; 
A childish voice is speaking that fills my 

heart with joy, 
I hear her now so plainly :'Tapa, be a good 

boy." 

Her chubby arms thrown 'round my neck 

as I am bending low, 
I bid her be a good girl always just before 

I go, 
To which her childish fancy and her love 

without alloy. 
Prompts her to return with fervor: "Papa, 

be a good boy." 

And oft amid the busy cares and toil and 

daily strife. 
When I am forced to meet temptations, as 

all must do in life. 
Then her parting admonition my selfish 

thoughts destroy, 
I hear her saying softly: ''Now, papa, be 

a good boy." 



When Ma Puts Out the Light. 

Long 'bout nine in winter time, 

Ma sez: "It's gettin' late— 
You fellers got your lessons? 

Put up your books and slate — 
Up to bed, you sleepy-head! 

And when you're kivered quite. 
One of you jest holler down — 

I'll come put out the light." 

Nen we hustle off up-stairs 

An' soon are rompin' big; 
Jack hits me with a pillow, 

An' I give him a dig; 
Nen Ma comes an' frowns, an' sez: 

"My! My! Ain't things a sight!" 
Nen we settle down as still — 

For Ma puts out the light. 

An' everything is quiet then; 

The wind goes "Whiz-z!" and "Who-o!" 
An' there's a shaky feelin' 

Comes creepin' in and through; 
We think of all our badness 

An' wish that we'd done right — 
Fer it's lonesome, cold, and dark, 

When Ma. puts out the light! 



Nobody But Jim. 

"Whose little fellow are you?" I asked; 

And, "Who is this, anyway?" 
But soberly drawing a "man" or "house", 

I could not get him to say. 

"My little fellow?" I asked again; 

"Come and sit on my knee — " • 
A smile played over his features, 

But never a word said he. 

Soon and his picture was finished. 
And to please the childish whim, 

I looked, praised it, then asked: "Who's 
this?" 
Said he: "Nobody but Jim." 

I gathered him up in strong embrace. 

My eyes grew strangely dim, 
And I thanked the Giver of life and joy. 

For little "Nobody but Jim." 



At Gettysburg. 

A little four-year, blue-eyed boy 
Climbed his Grandpa's knee, 

And begged a story of Gettysburg: 
**Now Grandpa, what did you see?" 

"We went to the war to fight, my lad, 

On many a glorious field, 
And many were shot and killed 

Because they would not yield. 

"Hundreds of men in battle array 

Clad in gray or blue, 
And all were bearing bayonets 

To thrust each other through. 

"The drums beat loud, the fifers blew, 
And the bugle call was heard; 

The column advanced to certain death 
When the Captain gave the word. 



"The cannon roared from hill to hill, 
The shot fell thick and fast, 

And the bravest heart expected then 
Each moment would be the last. 

"But we gained the victory, my lad, 
The enemy turned and fled, 

And on the bloody battlefield 
Thousands were left for dead." 

"Grandpa," spoke the boy at last. 
In a trembling voice and low: 

"You must have killed a lot of men — 
How many, do you know?" 

"Well, boy, the smoke was thick. 

So thick I could not see; 
But I shot and killed as many of them 

As they shot and killed of me." 



/V 3 1913 



